A last note
by Silver Storm Dragon
Summary: A look into Harry's past. Note: Is different to my other stuff, and it contains suicidal leanings.


A last note  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns all.   
PG for themes of abuse and suicide. I believe this comes from the same part of my brain as 'Still Time' and 'I know I will weep'.   
  
Harry picked up the quill and parchment. These were the last of everything. He sat at the desk in the silent common room, the early hours of the morning bringing a hush on the castle. He began to write;  
  
"Dear Hermione and Ron,  
  
On reflection, I guess living in a cupboard under the stairs has given me low expectations in life. These were thrown out of proportion when I went to Hogwarts, and I suppose I've never been between these two extremes. I have no stability.  
But that is only part of this. The man part is the scar. Not the scar everyone can see, the one plastered to my forehead by an evil force, but the scar that rips at my soul, that savages the void of the inner me. The scar that begins with a memory:"  
  
Harry paused, tooka deep breath and allowed his mind to let out the thought he had had.  
  
"I am afraid, alone and trapped. He is coming, the one I must fear. He glares at me, the hate burns me. He wants me dead."  
  
Harry stared at the last line for a moment. He had known it for years, but he had never said it or written it before now. Had it not been such a terrible situation, it would've been ironic. He could only say what had thought all his life on the last day of it.  
  
"I am choked by my own fear as He edges closer, eyes blazing. The fear I feel, have always felt, will always feel, raises itself. I am different. I know that. He knows it, too, that look in his eyes tells me all I need to know.  
The memory stops, the pain has been blocked out from my mind. I vaguely remember words, horrible words. Like my Aunt Marge, but much, much worse. Not just about me, but about my parents too. He would taunt me as as I did what I was forced too.  
No one understands, they pretend too, and some even try to. You are the only people to ever come close. But no one can know the scar that rips at me from the inside."  
  
Harry realised he was sweating, as if he was being watched. He looked around the room, but saw no one. "If you're there," he said softly "then come out. "  
Hermione appeared, Ron at her side. "We were worried about you. You weren't asleep, and all of your stuff was cleared away."  
"I just wanted a clear out, and I have to write this letter to Oliver, to let him know how the Quidditch is going, you knoe?"  
Hermione went and put a hand on his shoulder. Please, Harry thought, don't make this harder. "Harry, you know you can talk to us about anything, right?"  
"Yes, of course I do."  
"Good."  
"Look, Heermione, Ron, I'll be done with this letter soon. Just go back to bed. No need for all three of us to be tired tomorrow. Oh, and give me the cloak. I want this sent ASAP."  
Hermione looked with concern at Harry, but Ron gave her a gentle nudge away. "OK, Harry. Here's the cloak."  
"Thanks. Goodbye, Ron. Goodbye, Hermione." He gingerly hugged Hermione, and shook hands with Ron.  
"Why the strange goodbyes?" Hermione asked midhug.  
"I just wanted you to know that you're my best friends."  
"We know that, Harry. Goodbye."  
"Gooodbye, Harry."  
They left him, and Harry reread the letter. He picked up the pen and continued writing.  
  
"Every waking moment is speant reliving the abuse, and I've never known a restful sleep."  
  
That was true-too true as far as Harry was concerned. He debated whether to write about the abuse, and decided that he would-anything to get them to understand.   
  
"Another memory comes back to me:  
'Harry, come here.'  
'But I...'  
'Come here! You don't want me to get angry, do you?'  
'No.' I go towards him.  
'I'm sorry Harry, but I'm already angry. This has to happen, it's for your own good. You know that don't you? Don't you Harry?'  
His eyes burn into me, scarring me mentally before he marks the skin.  
'Yes, Uncle Vernon, I understand.'  
The memory ends there, and I am glad that it does. All I remember is screaming in agony, and having my screams muzzled by the hand of my aunt.  
She hated it. Once, when it was just her and I in the kitchen, she put a hand on my shoulder and said 'Harry, I'm sorry. It's not his fault. He was brought up like that, it's not his fault.'  
I swore I saw my Mum in her eyes. I nodded, and returned to the cleaning. That was the one and only time when she civil to me. I think she sought solidarity with me-I saw the scar that began at her neck. He only hust me where clothes could mask the scars frim the eyes of others. "  
  
Harry lay a hand on his shoulder, where Hermione had tried in vain to comfort him. The scar was barely viewable, and was impossible to feel, but he knew it was there. It still hurt him.  
  
"I may fear Voldemort, but He scares me more. I have been able to defeat Voldemort in the past, but have always suffered at His hands, unable to retaliate. The loathing I feel for Voldemort supresses my fear, but not even my loathing of Vernon can supress my fear of him. In a way, it feels stupid to write but it's true."  
  
Harry ran a hand through his hair, and saw Hermione looking at him. "I thought you left."  
"I couldn't sleep,and I figured you'd need the company."  
Harry folded the piece of parchment, and looked at Hermione. "I'm sorry, this is a bad time for me-"  
"But there won't be another time, will there Harry?"  
"What do you-"  
"You're going to commit suicide, aren't you?"  
"How did you know?" Harry had already spilled the truth about so many things, and he didn't want some of his last words to be lies.  
"You cleared everything away, you flinched when I touched you, you wanted me and Ron out of the way, the way you said goodbye. So, why?"  
"The letter explains."  
"Are you sure you want to? I mean, you can't exactly say 'Sorry, I didn't mean that!' can you?"  
"I-I don't know any more."  
"Harry, finish the letter. Maybe you'll feel different about it once you've finished. I'll go."  
Hermione got up. "No, Hermione, wait. Please stay."  
"OK. Harry."  
  
"Now you must see why I've done-am doing-what I've done-am going to do. This has nothing to do with you. I've been considering this for a long time, but now we've defeated Voldemort, I think I've done what I was meant to do. I can't take this pain alone any longer. This is the only way out.  
Good luck, Ron. You're a great friend. Please explain to your family. Thank you for everything-you gave me an escape. I can never thank you enough for that.  
Hermione-I know this is difficult. But you'll pull through, you're strong. You're beautiful, too. I know theres someone out there who can make you really happy. You're a great friend as well. I don't think I wouid've lasted five minutes in Hogwarts without you-either of you."  
  
Harry looked at Hermione, who was watching him intently. Did he really want, need, to leave her and Ron behind? He didn't know anymore. He didn't know anything any more.  
  
"You two are strong. I believe in both of you. I'll be looking out for you both, no matter what. You've got eachother, as well.  
I'm sorry.  
Harry"   
  
"Here, Hermione. Read it. Then tell me what you would do."  
Hermione took the note, and read it. She lay it down, and hugged Harry. "Oh, Harry, why didn't you tell me or Ron? Or anybody?"  
"I was afraid. Afraid he'd know."  
"Harry, he wouldn't. You should have told me. I'm going to help you." She gently kissed him on the cheek, and stood whispering words of comfort whilst sixteen years of regret and hate poured out of Harry's system.  
All night they talked about everything Harry's letter had covered. Finally, Hermione looked into Harry's eyes. "Harry, I think you need to talk to a counciller about all of this. I mean, I can listen but I can't really give you advice. Not the advice you need."  
Harry nodded. "I suppose so. Will you come with me to see Dumbledore tomorrow?"  
"Yes, Harry, of course I will. Do you want to tell Ron?"  
Harry thought for a minute. It made sense to tell Ron, but would Ron understand in the way Hermione did? He decided that Ron ought to know. "Yes. I'll give him the note."  
Hermione nodded. "Good. You've seen what secrets can do."  
Harry suddenly hugged Hermione closely. "Thank you, Hermione. Thank you so much."  
Hermione sighed. "Harry, it's nothing. You-you're my best friend. I care about you. I wanted to help you." She and Harry looked at eachother for a moment, and Harry suddenly moved to kiss her on the forehead.   
"You and Ron are my best friends. I want you to know that."  
"We do know that." Ron stood by the door. "I'm sorry for listening in, but I heard my name, and I thought....well. Can I read this note?"  
Harry picked the now scrunched up piece of parchment, unfolded it, and handed it to Ron.  
Ron scanned it. "Harry, why the hell didn't you tell us?"  
"I thought he would find out. Vernon, I mean."  
"Well, I didn't think you meant Dudley. I agree with Hermione, you ought to talk to someone professional about it."  
"Thank you. Both of you. I know I've got friends, but I really didn't know how much you cared. Thank you."  
  
Vernon Dursley was prosecuted for child abuse, and recieved twelve years imprisonment. (A/N: If anyone can tell how long he'd actually get, then can they let me know? Thanks) Harry Potter, after a few years of counselling and the help of his friends, lead a comparitively normal life after settling down with the love of his life. (A/N: I'm not gonna say who it is, you can see who you want. I imagine Hermione personally, but that's just me) Hermione Granger and Ron Weasly stood by Harry throughtout his life, proving themselves to be his very best friends.  
  
I was originally just going to have the note as a dark and depressing fic, but I just couldn't do it. I don't know, maybe I just wanted to do a fic to make people think, not make them cry or anything. I want to say that Harry kissing Hermione on the cheek (and forehead) is an affectionate kiss. I had considered doing a romance subplot, but I deicded that this just wasn't that kind of fic. Please review-I want to know if I should stick my usual light-heartedness or try to write more of these sort.  
It's interesting-it started out as a monologue with 'I guess living in a cupboard under the stairs has given me low expectations' which had nothing to do with suicide or anything. Then it became a monologue about Harry's past. Then it became a suicide note, and when I typed it up, I had the idea of Hermione and Ron finding out. I think when I began this fic in the very beginning, it looked like it was going to be a romance.... 


End file.
